


The Witch

by atinyinwonderland



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:07:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atinyinwonderland/pseuds/atinyinwonderland
Summary: Wooyoung went into the shop looking for a solution to his problem, but what he got was a little different than what he’d had in mind.
Relationships: Jung Wooyoung/Reader
Kudos: 16





	The Witch

The soft humming was almost inaudible. It took shape in your throat and created a melody you had only ever heard while working, hummed along centuries by others before you, an unfinished song passed down for the next generation to keep weaving into the world for as long as the world continues to exist. A tradition like any other, occult in fear of a time that was not yet ready to admit to its existence, but thriving within the walls of your little shop. That was its haven, its domain. It reverberated from somewhere deep inside, and out into the jars that covered the walls around you, brushing past the growing plants, mingling with the scent of herbs and gently hovering over the bones and stones and candles that were littered all over, leaving no surface untouched.

It was a shame when the bell rang announcing a new customer, for the hum immediately ceased to shed life into the room and was forced back into secrecy once more. Your eyes lifted from the page you’d been working on your grimoire, the incomplete juniper drawing a silent witness to your moving across the room to greet the newcomer.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

The boy seemed hesitant by the door, but finally decided to approach the counter. In the short walk from the entrance, his eyes lingered everywhere, half fascinated yet half sceptical. You sighed quietly. He was just like the rest of them, not ready to grasp the reality of something supernatural existing right under their noses. He probably just wanted some tea or a luck charm. That was what you advertised anyway.

His eyes finally settled on you, hands sliding into his jean’s pockets awkwardly as he spoke. “Hi. I was looking for something but…” He shook his head in embarrassment and bowed apologetically, “This is silly. I’m sorry. A friend told me I could find something here but… I think he was messing with me.”

“What is it you’re looking for? Maybe is not as silly as you think.”

The boy must’ve been your age, but he looked small as he bit his lip and glanced around; he seemed a fish out of water to you, standing there, lost in the objects around him, probably thinking they were all make believe. But his pink hair, which made his features softer, was the only fake thing around.

“He said you could help me forget someone.”

You could, actually. But how did he know that? If his behaviour since entering the shop was any indicator, he did _not_ seem the kind to believe. “Who’s that friend you were mentioning?”

“I knew he was messing with me. Fucking Mingi. I’m sorry, I’ll just leave.” He turned around but didn’t get too far before your voice made him halt.

“Mingi? Song Mingi?”

“You know him?” his eyes were back on you, this time he didn’t seem flustered, just curious.

“He comes here often, actually. Probably has read every book in the shop; told me he wanted to become a witch too. He’s cute.”

“Oh?” his posture changed then, every intent of leaving banishing from his mind. He approached the counter again, placing his hands flat against the surface. “So he wasn’t lying? You’re a… a witch?”

His quietly mumbling the last part made you smile, as if there were ears on the walls that shouldn’t hear those words. As if you had some reason to want to keep that a secret. “Your friend wasn’t lying, I can help with your problem… Sorry, I didn’t catch your name” you questioned.

“Wooyoung” he blurted out. “Really? Will you help me?”

“Yes, Wooyoung. But those services come at a higher cost than brewing some tea… and I’m not talking just about money. Are you that desperate to forget this person?”

That sparked doubt, you could see it in the way his shoulders dropped. “Wh-what would be that cost?”

“Spiritual. I could go into more detail if I knew something about this person and what they mean to you.”

“You want me to tell you about her? I’m looking for a witch not a therapist.”

His scoff made your blood boil, but he was a client. As much as you wanted to spit back how reckless and dumb he was for treating the matter so lightly, you bit your tongue. He wanted to play with something he didn’t comprehend and you were supposed to help him, you knew the drill all too well.

“Forgetting means losing a part of you” you explained, voice soothing as if luring a child towards safe arms, “ripping a hole onto your soul that might affect you permanently. Besides, you’ll lose part of your memories too. You might not notice if you’re lucky, or you might lose your mind trying to figure out what’s missing. So let me ask you again, are you that desperate to forget this person?” His eyebrow quirked at that, now you had his attention, though he still looked hesitant. He was handsome, you noticed. Your stare lingered for a moment too long on his lips until you caught yourself and blinked the image away. A frustrated sigh escaped his lips.

“That doesn’t sound easy.”

“Witchcraft isn’t easy. Honestly, what were you expecting?”

His hand flew to scratch at the back of his head, a subtle blush took over his ears. “I don’t know, I thought you’d have some tea for that. Maybe a charm to keep under my pillow? I really don’t know much about this stuff.”

“I can see that” you chuckled. You noticed his other hand was still over the counter and reached for it. He didn’t withdraw, so you turned his palm toward the ceiling and let it rest on top of yours as you followed the lines there, barely brushing your fingertips over his future. 

You couldn’t ignore the sudden switch in the energy of the room, air at a standstill, held breaths, his gaze fixed on you as you tried to glimpse past this moment. Hand reading usually came so naturally to you; a glance and the lines there told their every secret. But you could only see so far of him, and that could only mean one thing.

You grabbed a pen from the drawer and scribbled on his palm, then closed his hand in a fist so he wouldn’t be able to see. His curious eyes couldn’t care less for that, they were still on you when you looked at him with a solemn expression. “So?” he asked, clearing his throat. “Did you just read my future or something?”

“Some of it, yes. And you’ll live through the heartbreak, no need to touch your soul for now. There’s another, simpler way for me to help.”

“Oh. Ehm… how?”

You smiled and hinted for him to look at his hand. It took him a moment to figure it was your number you had given him. He was quick to ask for your name after that, a soft shade of pink now covering his cheeks too.

There was only one reason why a witch was not allowed to peek into someone’s future, and that was because it mingled with their own.


End file.
